Mother's Day 2007. I am not a big fan of Hallmark Holidays, but Jesse gave me a fabulous painting in the impressionist style, not unlike Monet's Water Lillies. It is absolutely wonderful but he says it's horrible. Me thinks he protest too much. My hope is that he is proud of his work because I certainly am! He has a hard time doing things the art teacher's way and I think that sometimes distractes him from the nature of his intrinsic talent.
I've thought alot about the nature of mothering this week and of course, my own mother. Our most recent blood-letting took the form of a Christmas visit...her to me...California to Virginia. I think I managed about four hours of hospitality before the fight or flight response that being in my mother's presence stimulates in my nervous system kicked in. The dynamic got progressively worse for the following four days until I just had to leave her to fend for herself her last 24 hours here, which was a day longer than we had agreed upon in the first place. I can feel my chest starting to tighten just writing about her and remembering the stress and discomfort of that visit; a visit that can best be characterized as the last one I mean to have with my mother.
I want to divorce my mother. I want nothing to do with her. I cannot begin to imagine what I could possibly learn from remaining in relationship with Dawn. The very best I can attempt on my own, three thousand miles away is tolerance of her particular life journey on Earth and compassion for how very ill-equipped she is for it. So, tolerance and compassion are what I can continue to learn, but I do not need to be in contact with her to practice them. I am tolerant and compassionate towards my mother, I just want nothing more to do with her.
My priest, when I told him I wanted to divorce my mother said, "Well, you can't, the BIble says to honor thy mother and father". Well, there is no better way to motivate me to do something than to tell me I can't do it.
"Honor your parents" is not a universal truth that my spiritual development hangs on. "Honor your parent" is religious dogma that keeps parents and children in unhappy and painful relationships. I am not capable of honoring my mother because she is not an honorable person. I am not capable of respecting a parent for whom I have no respect. Dawn was a vessel my soul used to incarnate into this life. Who knows why I chose a hostile and inhospitable womb to incubate in, but I did and everything turned out ok.
Yes, I believe that the soul chooses it's parents but that we FIND our family out in the world, especially once our biological parents have no more to teach us. The truth now though, is that the womb I chose to birth from doesn't even exist! It was surgically removed and destroyed years ago...there is no shred of a physcial connection left to the woman I grew up the daughter of. I moved 3000 miles away from her 23 years ago for the sake of self-preservation and I have no regrets regarding that choice.
The word's of wisdom Dawn repeated over and over were, "to thine own self be true". This to me means a life seeking the true self, that spark of God light that we all carry, that is rooted in our authentic self. My mother's version of "to thine own self be true" was a more superficial interpretation that looks like stingy selfishness. Am I terrified of becoming my mother? Yes, you betcha, but I feel certain there is no danger of that. You'd have to know my mother and you'd have to know me to understand why I feel so strongly about that.
I have a friend, someone I work with, who recently told me of her mother beating her until she lied...of her drunken mother beating her black and blue. This woman doesn't speak to her mother and hasn't for years. And why the hell should she? At what point do we get to let go of Judeo-Christian guilt about honoring parents who deserve no honor and haven't earned the respect that honoring someone would require? For me, for my friend, for every woman out there who has disowned her mother, that point is now.
